


The Lounge

by confessa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life, hints of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confessa/pseuds/confessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Age of Ultron spoilers. </p><p>She spent her days alone at the Avengers lounge, lost in her past, before Steve begins to join her. AKA How Steve Rogers became Natasha Romanoff's friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lounge

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters, all of whom belong to Marvel and the MCU.  
> Spoiler warning: Age of Ultron spoilers.
> 
> I debated whether I wanted this story to be romantic, but decided against it in the end. I wanted something that was canon-compatible with the MCU, and that meant acknowledging Bruce's (romantic) importance to Natasha. I do not think she is going to be falling for Steve any time soon. However, it was really difficult for me to write this fic because I had to find a way to explain a lot of her actions in the movie (her attraction to Bruce, her running away from the fight). I did my best! Please let me know if there are any problems with the characterization. Feedback would be greatly appreciated so I can work on it. This is my first full-length fanfiction in probably 10 years. LOL
> 
> This is a lead-up to the events of Civil War.

 

**_The Lounge._ **

_1\. Piece of art._

 

Natasha’s focus never wavered during missions or training. Her mind was always set on the target – _sidestep, a knee to the gut, block the arm, avoid the knife_ – she was too trained, too experienced to let her thoughts wander.

However, in the hours after most of the staff had left, she would head to the Avenger’s Lounge, settle in on her favourite 3-seater sofa with a cup of hot chocolate, and let her mind relax. It had been 6 months since Ultron’s defeat. What with the massive destruction wrecked, she had had hardly any rest since that time. Hardly any time to heal.

She would sit there, staring at the cool, grey wall opposite the sofa. There were other sofas in the room, most facing a massive TV screen. But there was so much movement and chaos these days that she liked the clean blankness of the wall.  

 _Listen to yourself._ She scoffed. _Analysing the wall like a piece of art._

Almost invariably, her mind would turn to Bruce. His disappearance still stung. He _had_ contacted the Avengers headquarters eventually, as Fury predicted, but only to say that he would not be making a return any time soon. He needed some time to himself, to calm down. He had not even contacted her directly.

Natasha’s grip on her mug tightened, bitterness welling up within her. _We were supposed to leave together._ Yet he had nothing to say to her.

She didn't know why she had been so attracted to Bruce. She often tried to pinpoint why. His sincerity? His stumbling awkwardness? Or maybe, it was the same tired look in his eyes each time he transformed back from being a raging, giant...monster?

_I am a monster, not you, Bruce. You do it unconsciously. I...I killed all those people, and I was very conscious._

That was it. That affinity. She felt that same tiredness. She had committed so many wrongs in her life, the murders and assassinations. She felt worn out, like a piece of cloth stretched too thin. In her mind, she was no longer in the Avengers lounge. She was back in Russia. In the ballet room. The instructor, looking at her. “Careless. Weak. Pretending to fail.” She was shooting bullets into a target and then the lights were flashing above her. The wheels of the trolley squeaking as they turned, turned, turned. God, that squeaking.

Wanda’s visions had left a lasting mark on Natasha’s mind. She never showed it outwardly, but she knew she should say something. Visions that still returned so vividly months after the initial cerebral manipulation should be reported immediately to HQ. Clint had been subject to regular psychiatric evaluations after Loki controlled his mind. Any psychological impairment could potentially jeopardise a mission. Natasha knew this better than anyone else. She had been trained since a child to complete missions, she knew what not to do.

She did not say anything though. These were her own demons to bear. Instead, she would come into the lounge in the wee hours of the morning and stare at the wall. Her mind needed time to recover, that was all.

Damn that squeaking.

 

 

_2\. Office romances._

 

Natasha made a daily visit to the lounge these days. The last of her long outfield missions had ended last week, so she was based at HQ now. She spent her days attending security meetings in New York or training at the headquarters. At night, she would wait until most of the building cleared out and the core security personnel had completed their rounds, before making her way to the lounge. She did not want anyone bothering her. She always had her hot chocolate, warming her aching bones from the day’s exertions. Her mind would wander again, back to the Red Room, back to the ballet sessions and the squeaking trolley. She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear the steps behind her.

“Natasha?”

She jumped, her hot chocolate swaying precariously in the mug in her hand. She waited a couple of seconds for it to steady before turning to Steve incredulously. “Wow, you managed to sneak up on me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking amused. A towel was draped around his neck and his hair was still wet. He must have just showered after training. “Well...I didn’t exactly sneak up. I really just walked up to you.”

Natasha opened her mouth to respond with a barb, but then closed it. He was right. Steve grinned at winning the small battle. “A lot on your mind huh?”

The smile on Natasha’s face froze. Suddenly, she felt exposed. She had been caught off guard, and her face must have shown the weight of her thoughts. “Just tired.”

“Hm.” Steve said offhandedly, glancing around the empty lounge casually. He did not seem to have noticed anything off with her, to her relief. He approached the sofa. “Mind if I sit down?”

She hesitated. She liked her moments alone, and she felt a small wave of irritation at being interrupted. But then she waved her hand towards the seat beside her. “Go right ahead, Cap. Afterall, this lounge is for everyone to use.” Besides, turning him down would raise a red flag - he would definitely know something was bothering her then. 

Steve smiled at her graciously and sat down at the opposite end of the sofa. “Yeah, Mark makes sure this lounge achieves its purpose.”

Natasha laughed, tucking her legs underneath her and turning to face him. “From logistics? Does he come here very often? Tracy too. I think she comes here for a coffee break every 20 minutes.”

“I am pretty sure Joanna and Timothy use this lounge for their daily dates.” 

Natasha gaped. “They are together?” Steve gave her an incredulous look. “What?? It’s not obvious.”

“They are always together, Natasha. How could you have missed it?”

Natasha raised her free hand indignantly. “How can Captain America be more aware of office romances than I am? I am the queen of knowing office romances.”

“Well, clearly you have been too busy admiring walls.”

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, and her visions flashed through her head. She was too good a spy to let it show. Instead, she mock glared at him. “Architecture happens to be an interest of mine, thank you very much.”

“Oh really?” Steve replied, his face lighting up in mock surprise. “Do tell me the architecture behind this wall.”

Natasha was not one to back down from a challenge. She set down her mug and began matter-of-factly. “Well, it separates the lounge from the control room just on the other side. Since agents would be off guard and relaxed in here, the wall is built thicker than many others in this building to withstand most attacks." Steve was listening with rapt attention, his face deliberately serious. She felt like slapping him, but continued. "It has little recesses at the base of the wall hiding the power sockets, so that the overall wall looks sleek and continuous, adding to the modern architecture of the whole building.”

“Wow.” Steve gave her a slow cap. “That is one fine piece of work there. Good job, agent.”

Natasha pursed her lips, holding back the urge to throw her hot chocolate at him. After a few seconds of internal debate, she settled for a cushion. “Since when did you become the captain of sass?”

He caught the cushion easily, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m learning from the best.”

 

 

_3\. Even superhumans get tired._

 

Steve joined her again the next day. They had trained together that afternoon, and as they headed out of the gym, he asked her if he could join her in the lounge after. His expression had been slightly hesitant and unsure. She had handled the request humorously, scolding him for even asking – “The lounge is for everyone to use, Cap. You don’t need my permission.” Inside, her stomach formed a knot. Judging from his body language, he had definitely noticed that she was troubled. He was always so perceptive.

As soon as they reached the lounge, Steve zoomed straight for the couch, at one end of the sofa again, while Natasha made her customary hot chocolate. He groaned with pleasure as he sunk into the soft seat, making Natasha chuckle. “Comfy, isn’t it?

“It is.” Steve agreed, his head leaned back against the soft cushion and his eyes closed. “It’s nice to actually _lounge_. We hardly have any time these days.”

“Ultron left a pretty mess.”

“And it’s costing us a pretty sum to fix it all up.”

A silence fell between them. It was not uncomfortable, but Natasha felt slightly tense. She wondered if he would bring up the topic of the visions. She took a seat on her own end, sipping her hot chocolate and trying not to get her tongue burnt. Her mind began to wander towards the Red Room again, as always.

“I’m glad our headquarters is finally based far away from the city though.” Steve’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. He was still slouching on the sofa, his eyes closed, so he had not caught her little jump. “If anyone attacks us, at least they won’t destroy half a city doing so.”

“I wonder why they didn’t think of that in the first place.” Natasha pondered, sipping her drink again. She mentally scolded herself for losing focus with Steve right there.

Steve shrugged. He finally opened his eyes and stared blearily at the wall opposite. She had not seen him this tired in a while. _I guess even the world’s first superhero gets a little tired._  

Natasha recalled the days after Wanda’s mindplay. The whole team had been left exhausted – even Thor had looked worn out on the plane ride back. Yet Steve had seemed relatively unperturbed by it. She wondered what Wanda had shown him. She stared at him openly – he was too distracted with his own thoughts to notice. 

 _Is this how I look? When I am lost in my thoughts?_ The ballet room flashed through her mind again.  Natasha felt an urge to say something about the visions. Maybe it was good that Steve had noticed something. He was so kind. She remembered his sincerity back in Sam’s room, one of the few times she had opened up to someone, barely. Perhaps she could confide in him...

But she did not speak. It was not in her nature to speak of her feelings. She had not been brought up for sharing emotions.

_I never learned how to._

With that, she felt defensive again. This was her problem to deal with. It was not anything she could not handle. Besides, he had enough on his plate without having to worry about her.

It was Steve that spoke first eventually. “Do you want a break?”

Natasha frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Steve sat up in his sofa a little straighter, still staring at the wall. “We have been so busy since Ultron’s defeat that we haven’t had time to rest at all. And, well, heal.”

Natasha felt her throat tighten. She remembered thinking the same words some time before. He was not looking at her as he said those words, so she was unsure whether they were targeted at her. Given his perceptiveness, they might have been. She felt the urge again to tell him about her visions. Instead, she deflected. “I think I’m okay.”

“It’s okay to feel tired, Natasha.” He looked amused. “Hell, I could do with a rest, and I’m supposed to be superhuman.”

“Stamina running out, Cap?” Natasha teased.

“I _could_ do with my morning jogs.” Steve admitted, his voice playful. His eyes turned to her. “How about you, Nat? You okay?”

His expression was gentle and concerned, and Natasha felt a rush of affection for him. He was a good person. “I’m fine.” She replied reassuringly. “A little worn out from training, maybe, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Steve nodded slowly, but he was studying her. She knew she was too good a spy for anything to show on her face. “That’s good. I should have asked this question sooner, but there were so many things going on, it slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”

“Relax, Cap.” Natasha reached over and gave him a light punch on the arm. “You’re not my caretaker.”

Steve smiled. “No. But I’m your teammate, and, I hope, your friend.”

He said this so sincerely that Natasha had nothing to say for a moment. He was still gazing at her very kindly. She felt a lump in her throat again, but she did not know why. Finally, she spoke. “Didn’t I say you were in the wrong business?”

Just as before, Steve laughed. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to be okay. And you can always speak to me about it.”

“I know.” And Natasha meant it. “Thank you.”

 

 

_4\. Holiday plans._

 

The next time the topic of holiday plans came up, the conversation was a lot less serious. Steve was leaning forward towards her, his elbows on his knees, his voice eager. “I mean, the rest of the team took their holidays, I’m just saying we could do with one too.”

“I know.” Natasha replied. “But there a ton of things to do here and there is no way we will have time to run off on a honeymoon.”

“I’m not saying we go on a 3 week luxury cruise. I mean a short getaway. They can’t work us like slaves. We have labour laws.” Steve sounded borderline whiny at this point, and Natasha burst out laughing.

“So what, you want to go on strike?”

Steve made such a petulant face that she laughed again. “Hell, I should. I’d make headlines – ‘Captain America leads the charge for workers’ rights’.”

“Embodying the American spirit.” Natasha teased. “Strikes are so popular here.”

“We know our rights.” Steve agreed, a grin on his face. He looked so boyish and handsome that Natasha smiled just looking at him.

“So where do you want to go?”

Steve thought about it for a few seconds. “I always wanted to visit the tropics. Imagine, a trip to India. The Taj Mahal.”

Natasha nodded slowly, thinking of her own holiday wishlist. “I always wanted to go Australia. Scuba-diving to see the Great Barrier Reef.”

“Cambodia. The Angkor Wat. Sam went, he said it was gorgeous.”

“Bangkok has great shopping for really cheap prices.”

“Singapore. This tiny city-state that has great food, apparently. We can head north afterwards to Malaysia and Thailand.”

“Might as well cover Cambodia then.”

“Vietnam is near there right?”

“Myanmar too.”

“The whole South East Asia!” Steve said dramatically. “We can cover it all!”

Natasha laughed. She had been doing that a lot that evening, and it felt good. “We should.” Steve turned to look at her, the smile gone from his face. 

“I’m serious.”

Natasha held his gaze for a few seconds, searching it. “Then I’m serious too.”

 

 

_5\. Sleep._

 

In the end, they did not get to go on their holiday. A false positive from a satellite transmission had sent the team to Washington for a non-existent enemy. _Just our luck._  Maria apologized profusely and promised them that they could go on their holiday the week after.

“And I was looking forward to finally seeing the Taj Mahal.” Steve said as he plopped himself down on the sofa. He often joined Natasha at the lounge these days. She liked it. He kept her mind off the Red Room, and made her laugh.

“Well, you only have to wait one week more.” Natasha said reassuringly. “You waited over 60 years, I’m sure you can wait a little more.”

“I spent those 66 years asleep.” Steve pointed out. "It didn't feel much of a wait."

Natasha smiled. “Then I guess you have to sleep more.”

 

 

_6\. Alone._

 

The holiday was postponed again. There had been a break in the inter-galactic space, and a group of aliens had invaded Cuba. The Avengers had gathered again for the fight, and it was a few weeks before they managed to clear out all the invaders. 

Bruce had not appeared.

Natasha refused to let herself linger on this. She couldn’t, in any case, as she was too busy dodging and shooting alien invaders. However, once back at the headquarters, she found herself alone in the lounge with no distractions. She had been saddled with the boring task of reporting on the attack to HQ. Steve, Vision and Wanda stayed back to help with the rebuilding. Sam was sent on a recon mission to South America. Clint was allowed to go back home to his family, although he told her to come join him as soon as she could. Thor returned to Asgard immediately, citing something about "Lady Sif" and "ceremony". Stark was back at the headquarters with her, but he was hardly the person Natasha wanted to spend the evening with. Besides, he was too busy testing the space metal that they had recovered from the battle.

The lounge seemed eerily quiet after all the fighting. She had become used to Steve joining her, his easy laughter keeping her preoccupied. Natasha sighed. She stirred her hot chocolate, watching the remaining powder spiral around the surface.

_Where are you, Bruce? What are you doing?_

Her thoughts then turned to the Red Room. Ballet. The squeaking wheels. Turning, turning, turning.

_Weak. Careless._

_You are trained for one purpose – to complete the mission._

_The mission._

She stared at the wall opposite. Blank, empty.

She got up, emptied her cup in the sink, and left the lounge. She needed to get all the admin work done quickly. Then she could go find Clint and Laura. 

 

 

_7\. One month later._

Natasha begun to avoid the lounge these days. After training, she would take a hot shower and head back to her apartment in the city for an early night, or to a bar to relax. She loathed being alone with her thoughts.

 

 

_8\. Reprisal._

 

There was a light emanating from the lounge. No one was in the building. Natasha hesitated in the corridor. Steve was still supposed to be in Cuba. Maybe one of the employees had stayed back. Or maybe Steve had come back early? Finally, curiosity got the better of her and she headed down the corridor to take a peek.

She looked inside the room. Steve was sitting at the end of the sofa, one leg folded with a foot on his knee, reading the newspaper.

Natasha let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding. He looked up, alerted to her presence. “Hey, Natasha. You sneaked up on me.”

She smirked. “My turn.”

She headed in to make her hot chocolate.

 

 

_9\. The Dance._

 

“Wanda’s vision, she showed me Peggy.”

Natasha glanced up at him over the newspaper she was reading. They had been sitting silently in the lounge. Steve had just come back from a mission with Sam. There had been reports of the Winter Soldier in Eastern Europe so the two had headed out to examine the region. Steve came back empty-handed, and had spent the past two days in the gym, not speaking to anyone. When he finally joined her in the lounge, she did not prompt him to speak. She knew he needed silence.

Steve’s eyes were fixed on the wall opposite, his blue eyes tired.

“Peggy Carter?”

“Yeah. I...I had promised her a dance.” Steve’s eyes were distant. Natasha put down the newspaper to listen more attentively. “I was supposed to meet her after my mission for a dance. But I was thrown into the ice instead, and by the time I woke up, well, I was a little late.”

Natasha kept quiet. Steve had not opened up to her before. And to be honest, she did not know what to say.

“In the vision, I was back in the past, and...I was meeting her for a dance.”

Natasha knew now that the point of his words were not the vision. He was reminiscing about the past, triggered by the mission to find Bucky. It was a familiar feeling. She remembered her long evenings alone in the lounge before Steve joined her, haunted by her memories.

“It must have been hard, waking up and losing everything.” She said softly. Steve turned to look at her. His eyes seemed particularly blue today, and she couldn’t look away. She hesitated before continuing, not sure if she wanted to keep the topic on Wanda’s mindplay. “I didn’t know you were so affected by the visions.”

Steve thought for a bit, then he sat up straighter, as if he was shaking himself out from his reverie. When he spoke, his voice was more alert. “Stark said the same thing at the time. I think I was. But I had one thing working for me – the vision was the past.” Natasha must have looked confused at this, because he went on as if to explain himself. “You can’t change the past can you?”

Natasha mulled over this. “Isn't that why it’s so crushing?”

“Or liberating.” Steve countered. “You can’t change it, so there’s no point thinking about it anymore. You have to move on.” His calm pragmatism amazed her. 

“Easier said than done.” Natasha kept her voice neutral, as if she was playing Devil’s Advocate. She did not want to let on how personal this conversation had become. _Would he know?_ “The question is, how do you move on?”

Steve’s gaze was steady and piercing. _He always did._ “It's not easy. I still think about it sometimes, I just was. After waking up from the ice, I joined SHIELD because I didn’t have anything else to do.”  He waved a hand across the room. “Then I found a purpose – protecting lives. I had entertained the thought of just retiring, but at the end of the day, I think I would just keep coming back to the fight.”

Steve’s words triggered a memory in Natasha. Running away with Bruce, leaving the battle with Ultron. Coming back.

“I was given a chance to craft out a future I want.” Steve was saying. “So I took it.”

Natasha absorbed these words. The wheels and the lights and the ballet. _Complete the mission_. “The future I want, huh?”

“What do you want?” Steve asked her.

Natasha thought of a dozen dirty non-answers and another dozen, unspoken wishes. She thought of children, and a life in the countryside, walking down shopping streets with friends and attending college parties. She thought of the parents that she never knew, and a little faceless, gender-less child calling out “Mommy.”

“I don’t know.”

But she knew. She wanted a future that she could never have.

 

 

_10\. Date._

 

Steve had finally asked Sharon out. His workload had finally eased off in the past few weeks, and they had apparently reconnected at the HQ one afternoon.

Natasha headed to the lounge after her training. It had been a tough day. A new laser technology had been developed this past week and she had spent the entire day learning how to use it in combat. Her stomach sank a little at the thought of the empty lounge. She was no longer haunted by her visions as much these days, but she still wished Steve was waiting for her there.

She glanced at the clock as she walked into the lounge. It was 11pm. She wondered whether Steve’s date had ended. Perhaps they were still at the restaurant. _No, it would be closed._ Or they were walking back. He was so chivalrous, he would definitely walk Sharon back to her apartment. He might even spend the night.

Natasha snorted a little at this. No way that would happen on the first date. Not with Captain America. She wondered absent-mindedly if he was still a virgin. She had always wanted to ask him. _Judging from the way he kissed, probably._ But that had been more than a year ago. She picked up her mug, stirring the hot chocolate, and turned around. An empty, silent lounge greeted her.

An image of Steve and Sharon laughing on some Brooklyn road came to her mind, and her stomach sank a little further. It was lonely here. 

 

 

_11\. Peace._

 

They were completing a crossword puzzle together, Steve reading out the clues for Natasha. Well, she says "together", but really, she was only half-paying attention. Instead, she was sitting sideways on the sofa, studying him intently. He thought hard about every single clue, his brows furrowed in concentration. He didn't even notice how she had been staring at him for the past 5 minutes.

“Aha!” Steve beat the paper lightly in triumph. “‘Element!’ The word is ‘element’.” He excitedly scribbled the word down, resembling very much an overgrown child.

She felt peaceful sitting here next to him. She found herself wishing she could spend the rest of her days just like this.

 

 

_12\. Civil war._

 

Steve was angry. His fists were clenched, his mouth was set in a thin line, and his broad shoulders were tense and stiff. She noticed all these with a single glance. He was not sitting down on the sofa, but standing up against its side.

“Stark is being stupid.” Natasha wished she had something more constructive to say, but she felt helpless.

Steve shook his head. “No, he knows what he is doing. He chose, Natasha. He chose that side. And I’ve chosen mine.”

 

 

_13\. Friend._

 

 “Wanda, she...she showed me my past as well.” It was a year on. This might be the last time the two of them hung out in the lounge together. The acrimony between Stark and Steve had reached an all-time high, and Steve was leaving the HQ. This was the last chance for Natasha to say the words she had always wanted to say to him.

Steve was seated on his usual side of the sofa. His expression was attentive but neutral. Natasha pressed on. If she stopped now, she would never say the words. “I was a different person then.”

“Everyone was.”

She nodded. “You told me that we have to move on from our past. Find a new purpose. A future we want.”

He looked impressed. “Wow, I’m glad someone remembers my words.”

“You are quoted many times in the Smithsonian, Rogers.” Natasha said dryly. “I’m sure at least _some_ people remember your words.”

There was a lull in the conversation before she continued. “I wanted a normal life, or at least I thought I wanted it. Bruce, he – he and I were supposed to leave together.” Steve raised an eyebrow inquiringly. She explained quickly. “Before the final battle with Ultron, we were thinking about leaving.”

“So what happened?”

“I couldn’t.” Natasha replied simply. “Not with those people still in the city. I wanted to leave with him because I wanted a normal life – or at least I thought I did. But when it came down to the wire, I came back to the fight. I didn’t care if I died trying to save those people.”

“It wasn’t a bad way to go down.” Steve quoted her.

“Wow, I’m glad someone remembers my words.”

Steve laughed. “I’ll get the Smithsonian to quote you.”

“Sorry, but no thanks, I would rather not be a fossil.” Natasha countered. She would miss this banter.

“Well,” Steve shifted in his seat to face her more directly. “I’m glad you came back.”

Natasha was touched by his sincerity, but she wasn’t done. “I made a choice that day. It wasn’t later until you spoke to me that I realised it. Between living a normal life, and fighting in the battle. I chose the latter.” His blue eyes were looking straight into her own. “And Wanda’s visions didn’t bother me much after that. They reminded me how I could never lead a normal life. But since I didn’t want that anymore, they didn’t hurt so much.” She paused. “You helped me see that. So...thank you.” Her voice was low and quiet by this point.

“I didn’t do much.” Steve said, sounding a bit bashful.

“No, you did.” They had not broken eye contact. “Thank you, for being my friend.”

Steve’s eyes were unreadable. He did not reply for a few seconds. When he did speak, he sounded gratified. “And thank you, for being mine.”

 

  _The End._

 

 

 


End file.
